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2013.09.08 - Conference Call
It has been a couple of rather oddly frustrating days for Nate. He went exploring expecting the worst, and found very little worth to actually do anything about it. He should be glad, really, why is he not happy? He doesn't want to think to hard about it. He stands on the top of a rather step hill, his back against solid stone, there is a village about three miles in front of him, an unremarkable place except because it is very close to a prisoner camp. Also, he is definitely out of range for the local minor telepathic talents. Something it wouldn't happen if he was closer to Bastion. It is from this relatively quiet from where he attempts something new: establishing a telepathic mind-link with there different minds, one of which is half a world apart. Namely Kwabena, Rachel and Jean. |"Hello. Folks. You three available for a chat?"| ---- IC: GBS (Broadcast News) Chain of crime ring killings Law enforcement agencies across the globe have begun piecing together a strange series of crimes, the victims of which all seem to be linked together. The common denominator? A global-reaching narcotics trade, with major cells in the Netherlands, China, Afghanistan, Brazil and the United States. International law enforcement agencies have been working together for the last few days in an attempt to piece together the reason for these attacks, which have left members of the global-reaching cartel dead, their homes and offices ransacked. Most of the victims were suspects in local narcotic investigations, but until now, incriminating evidence remained out of reach. While the international community has not yet determined a suspect in these vigilante-style crimes, all signs point to a message left behind on the buildings ransacked at each crime scene. The word 'Odame', and a series of identical numbers. The United States DEA has shed some light on the case, pointing to a mysterious killer known to them only as 'Odame', a surname from the village region of Ghana. While the name hasn't cropped up in almost a year, a DEA spokesman has confirmed that the name seems liked to a mysterious mutant who has been responsible for the deaths and incriminations of numerous drug cartels across the Eastern US Coast. More as this story develops. GBS, Clark Matheson reporting, Washington D.C. Bureau Part and parcel of operating a successful network of resistance cells is making sure that those cells are not directly linked. As such, Kwabena Odame isn't even aware of where, exactly, Jocelyn and Rachel's cells have been set up. His cell is rather small, only a handful of right-minded humans who believe in equality but have, until now, felt powerless to do anything about it. Wearing the colorful traditional African garb as a costume of sorts, Kwabena is sitting silently in a small, dirty pub when the telepathic voice invades his mind. He's gotten quite used to it, and has even begun to notice when the otherworldly presence begins tickling at his inner person. As such, there isn't a single outward sign that he has begun holding a silent conversation, as he sits perched over a small glass filled with amber liquor. His voice sounds particularly broody, given a news report he just saw on the small television. |"I'm here."| Rachel's putting the finishing touches to recruiting her cell. The beauty of it from her point of view? If they're ever compromised, they'll never be able to point the finger at her. Because as yet, she hasn't met any of them. Rachel's fairly sure that if Kitty knew what she was doing, she'd have something to say about it. But Kitty's not here. Rachel's sitting outside a rather ramshackle cafe that still manages to be a more salubrious establishment than the one Shift's haunting, a cup of coffee and an old newspaper on the table in front of her. She's not dressed in a particularly Rachel fashion, but then she is supposed to be keeping a low profile. A slightly battered floppy hat grants her some protection from the sun, while a pair of dark sunglasses shade her eyes. An off-white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up keeps her cool in the afternoon warmth, while a loose, dark brown skirt covers her down to her boots. Her eyes seem to be fixed on the newspaper, reading with great interest, but behind the sunglasses they're unfocussed, not seeing anything as her mind searches through the minds of those around her. She's found an intriguing prospect. A keen photographer with a strong streak of idealism, frustrated by what he sees happening around him but with no idea what to do about it... he's perfect. Rachel slips into his mind with practiced ease, planting a gentle suggestion. A place to be, a time to be there. Somewhere she knows he'll find like-minded friends... because she's planted the suggestion in them, too. Pleased with her work, Rachel blinks her eyes and takes a sip of her rapidly cooling coffee. Nate's mental contact is well-timed, and she gives little outward sign of surprise. A slight stilling of her hand, and then another sip taken. |Go ahead. I can talk.| Her mental voice sounds clearly. Half a world away, Jean's footsteps hit the pavement along the side of the road in regular rhythm. Her breathing is synched to her footsteps, in fact -- inhale...2...3...4...exhale...2...3...4... It's a good rhythm, a meditative rhythm. A rhythm that gives her some modicum of focus. And the road is a lonely one, which means she's not quite as bothered by the close press of minds as she might otherwise be. So, yes. She's dressed in exercise gear -- loose grey trousers and an orange tanktop that, remarkably, doesn't clash with her red hair, complimenting it, instead. Not, mind, that she dresses to be seen at this hour of morning. About her waist is a running pack, complete with a water bottle and ipod, the earphones lightly placed in her ears. As she sense the mental brush across her mind, her steps slow. She pauses beside a shady copse of trees in the crisp, early-autumn/late-summer morning air, and grabs the towel from around her neck, using it to pat her face down. Her focus automatically centers and she reaches out to respond in kind, quickly sensing the others as well. ~ Go ahead... ~ Nate's telepathic voice is not as well 'modulated' as Rachel or Jean's. Probably too loud for Kwa, who is the one that can't filter it, and the closest to himself. But it is not too bad for a world-wide mind-link. There are not many telepaths on Earth with the wattage and skill to do this. |"Good. I got you all."| He keeps his messages simple, not to mess up with irrelevant thoughts. |"I have checked several prisoner camps. Still got a couple to see. But so far I got nada. Most of the folks jailed deserve to be there. Anti-mutant militias and violent mutant haters. They are forced into hard labor, but they are fed and clothed and treated when injured. No torture or experiments or extermination. Just vague rumors/thoughts of those happening elsewhere: the Spire."| The volume of Nate's voice in his mind is enough to make Kwabena wince, and without any mental defenses, there's no way for him to hide that it's uncomfortable. He raises the glass and drops the rest of the whiskey down his gullet in an effort to stave it off, then shakes his head at the bartender, declining a refill. |"The Spire is Magneto's home. His center of operations."| Kwabena's mental voice lacks much of his accent, but he keeps his messages simple as well. |"Any idea what's taking place inside of it?"| His lack of mental defenses, however, causes a tendril of secondary thought to leak into the telepathic link. It's all centered around the GBS broadcast that passed before his eyes not long ago, the same thing that drove him to drink. A shadow of his gritty past, before his time with the X-Men, and the suspicion that he's either being framed... or summoned. The name. His last name. The numbers? An address to a place in one of Brooklyn's most dangerous ghettos, where Kwabena used to inject heroin into his arm before he got clean. They are ugly memories that, thanks to that blasted news story, are now painfully close to his surface. Rachel damps the power of Nate's mental voice automatically. It's easy for her to do, but also a reminder of just how powerful he is. If they'd had more time to prepare - if she'd had time to work with both him and Hope while they were still in the US - all these might have beens chase around her head before she banishes them. Too late now, they'll just have to work with what they have, play to their own strengths, and hope it's enough. Rachel flips the page of her newspaper, still not really looking at it, and polishes off her coffee. Ugh. She grimaces as the cold dregs slide down. Definitely waited too long there. Despite her outward demeanour, however, her part of the link feels intently curious about Nate's report. |Magneto wouldn't want anything too easy to find.| She muses, and adds, |Assuming there IS anything to find.| No targets for her new pet photographer, anyway. She quiets at Shift's question, wanting to hear the answer herself... but 'hearing' something else at the same time. Immediately, she reaches out to Kwabena, forging a private, temporary link between them. |You're leaking.| She tells him. |Something on your mind is on our minds too.| It's only fair to let him know, although she can't imagine that Jean, at the very least, missed it. The flash of a glass of whiskey she got from his end of the link gives her some cause for concern, but she'll have to talk to him later. Jean hasn't yet seen the news, this morning. But, knowing Shift as well as she does, she'll doubtlessly put the same clues together he did. She's far too intimately aware of those memories, after all. Thus, when they leak into his thoughts, there's a faint hint of her pensive frown. There's a distraction for him, to be sure. And she can't help but feel its timing is a little too contrived. But, maybe she's just seeing conspiracies everywhere, these days, whether they're there or not. Publicly, however, she responds to Nate's information. ~ Rachel's right. We don't know that there actually is anything to find there. Nor that Magneto hasn't simply hidden things very, very well. ~ A beat. She considers. ~ That said, outright torture, without a purpose, isn't necessarily his style, either. He's a chess player. Keeping pawns off his opponents boards is enough. He doesn't need to do anything more than imprison people. ~ She shakes her head now. ~ Frankly, if they're all incarcerated for legitimate reasons, in Bastion, so much the better. Our main concern is Hammer Bay and keeping at least part of the country free from his open political control. ~ Her thoughts imply that she's sure he'll have behind-the-scenes control one way or another. All she really wants to the team to be able to do is mitigate that. Keep at least one freeport in the island nation so that Magneto doesn't have the whole island as an untouchable, unassailable power base. Nate grunts and starts pacing. They can feel it through the link, since he is not trying to block his reactions. |"You guys/X-Men have a history of conflict with Magneto. But I don't. He was the X-Men's founder in my world! I came here fearing he was a war-mongering lunatic (like Apocalypse). You told me he was enslaving the humans. I see no evidence of it, and little need to sabotage his take over the island. There are many far worse, more violent, vicious political leaders around the world. (Most are human)."| He is wondering if he made a mistake coming here. But still... Kwabena seems to give the rumors some consideration. |"Nothing solid there. The prisoner's rumors are mingled with a fair deal of fantasy and hate. The guards have also rumors/suspicions/stories and not all of them disregard them as anti-mutant propaganda."| |"Fuck."| Fortunately, that little thought was wrangled by Rachel's private telepathic link. |"How do I stop?"| he asks, as if she could give him a crash course on telepathic defenses. Reaching for his pack of smokes, Kwabena tries to keep the news off his mind. He tries to avoid turning to another shot of whiskey. "Dis alright?" he asks the bartender, who nods his head approvingly at Kwabena's pack of cigarettes. A moment later, he's got a lot cigarette perched between his teeth, and is stowing a beat up old zippo back into his pocket. The African can't help but feel a touch of conspiratorial paranoia about it all, and in spite of his best efforts not to think about it, it's simply there. Leaking. |"Magneto has been building new housing on the fringes of Hammer Bay,"| he adds, surprised to find that when he thinks of the others, Nate's telepathic link seems to remind him that they can hear him. It's a touch confusing for Kwabena, for he's never found himself bouncing between two different telepathic conversations before. For a moment, he feels dizzy, and has to place a steadying hand on the bar to keep himself from losing focus. |"I'd double down that he's making a move to gain public support. He has an abundance of resources. Digs precious metals out of the earth using his mutant abilities, and that's what funds his Empire. Cash wise? He's damned near limitless."| It's a little something he learned while spying on the Brotherhood, which means the dangerous operation wasn't completely worthless. He's not about to interfere with Nate's argument against the operation. He was here to see it through, and until Jean, Scott, or one of the other senior X-Men pull him out, he'll keep his head low and get it done. However, he begins to expect that Nate is close to receiving a reprimand from Jean. Trying to keep those thoughts to himself, and likely failing, he simply adds, |"Don't underestimate Magneto's ability to blind his opponents."| Rachel's voice is back in Kwabena's mind alone, and there's no hint of amusement in it over his startled reaction. |Concentrate on something else and stop drinking.| There's no censure in her tone either, but short of shielding his thoughts from the others, there's little she can do at such short notice. And that would be far too obvious. Kwabena will feel her withdraw the private link - she could have done it imperceptibly, but he needs to know there's only one conversation to concentrate on. There's a feeling that she'll be looking to take things up with him again later, though. Nate's increasing agitation is clear to her, and as it bleeds across the link she rises and walks inside the cafe, sliding off her sunglasses in the comparatively dim interior. She needs another coffee if she's going to keep sitting at the table outside, and this lets her work off the echoes of Nate's restlessness. |Nate... we don't have the full picture yet. We know he's done some pretty worrying things. But if we let him take over, let him close off Genosha, then we won't GET that full picture until it's too late to do anything about it. Give it time.| There's a little hesitation, before she adds, |And honestly? I fancy our chances against human bad guys a lot more than I fancy our chances against Magneto, if he's given a free hand.| Jean conceals the weariness Nate's questions bring her from the others, the long sigh that causes her head to drop. Like Rachel, she can sense the younger telepath's restlessness, not to mention Shift's unrest. Grabbing a single swallow of water, she starts jogging once more, letting a return to the rhythm steady her once more, before she resumes the telepathic conversation. ~ Nate, a lot of what we're doing here is information gathering and simply trying to prevent Magneto from consolidating power. In your world, he was a good guy. And I don't doubt that. Not at all. I actually do believe his intentions are good. He's not evil, per se. ~ Perhaps that will put both the alternate timeline mutants a little more at ease. Because truth rings in what she says. She objects to Magneto's methods with the whole of her being, but she doesn't doubt his sincerity or that he believes he's doing the right thing, taking the only road he sees open to him. She also knows, however, that there are a lot of other psychological forces working on him. ~ I've known him since I was a kid, ~ she tells them all, now. ~ There was a time he and the Professor were partners. ~ A flash of memory echoes through the link, an image of both Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier sitting on her parents' couch, facing her across the living room, telling her they understood her struggle as a nascent mutant -- promising her they could make things better. The man now called Magneto was as much a 'savior' to her as Charles ever has been. ~ But he is misguided. ~ She also knows that something changed. Philosophically, he and Charles has a falling out. And that's really what this comes down to. Magneto believes 'homo novus', as he calls them, will succeed 'homo sapiens', and isn't above hastening that transition. Jean doesn't it see it so black and white. ~ The bottom line ~ she sends calmly, ~ is that he is far more dangerous than you have seen. If you are uncomfortable with the mission, I can pull you out. There's no shame in that. You need to do what you feel is right. But, what we're doing there is very sensitive. And if you're not on board with it, then maybe it's better you return to the States. ~ Returning to New York has been in Nate's mind since he checked the last camp, this is true. But there are a few matters that linger yet. Not least of them that he agreed to follow Jean's instructions when he came. He sighs. |"No. Not getting back yet. I will stay until I/we have investigated what is going on in the Spire. And perhaps also that the elections aren't rigged. But I am heading back to Hammer Bay. Not much more to do here."| |"Stop dri-"| He cuts off his thoughts, however, as soon as he feels her private link withdrawing. It made sense. His tolerance for whiskey may be abnormally high, but it will slow him down and make it more difficult to focus his thoughts. "Could I get some watah?" he asks the bartender, before ashing the cigarette on the floor nearby. Focusing on the conversation at hand, Kwabena willfully whisks thoughts about the GBS news report from his mind. It's tough, but damnit, he's not come this far to be thrown off by a potential distraction. There is agreement in his mind to Rachel's rebuke, and what Jean tells them is in many ways news to Kwabena. In fact, the sight of Charles and Erik seated together, younger versions of each, brings an ironic smile to his face. He's seen that side of the man before. He's also seen the misguided side, all too well. He remains critically quiet, the smile having faded. From where he's sitting, the operation as a whole isn't quite on the brink of failure, and he believes it can be held on course. That's enough for Kwabena Odame to go a few more days without bourbon. Rachel plays up on adjusting to the dimness in the cafe to buy her a few seconds. As much as she just counselled patience, she can't really object when Jean reminds Nate that he has an easy out if patience isn't his style. But that still doesn't mean she can be entirely sanguine about the prospect of losing their biggest gun. She wants to hear his answer - and when it comes, it's at least somewhat reassuring. Time will tell if Jean was right, but for now, Rachel's happy that their small team didn't just get smaller. Walking toward the counter, Rachel smiles at the man behind it. "Sunny day." She says by way of explanation, and passes back her empty cup. "Another coffee?" She asks, waiting patiently as the man bustles off to make it. Within her mind, she reaches out to the link again. |Something tells me the Spire is going to be a problem.| She's not entirely able to screen the concern she feels from her mental voice. |We're telepathically strong, but I'm still not confident we could just walk in and out. Magneto's dealt with telepaths before, we'd have to assume he'd have fitted out his home accordingly.| She's more concerned that Kwabena's gone quiet. ~ Magneto has sheer numbers on his side, ~ Jean notes. ~ There are many, many more mutants on Genosha sworn to his cause than those that have not. And while he keeps very few close to his side, that doesn't mean the others should be discounted. ~ Particularly not the few that want to be in that inner circle and who will thus do anything they think will get him his favourable attention. Destroying, or at least hindering, his enemies would seem a very sound strategy. Nonetheless, she is satisfied enough by Nate's response. ~ Just keep your eyes open. Focus on the things that don't seem to affect things on the surface, but that can work together to form something larger and harder to see. That's what will show you the real pattern at work. ~ It is very possible that everything they're doing will be for naught, that they're over-reacting. She's well aware of that. But, she's no precog. She has no way to know. But, truthfully, though not a hint of it leaks into her thoughts, she just wants this mission done with. Nate seems to grudgingly agree with what it is being told. |"On my way. Ten minutes to the city."| The connection is fading because he is dividing his attention. Not so loud for Kwa now. |"I am going to see about the Spire. Telepathy... but yes. Xavier. Magneto knows Xavier. He must have theoretical know-how about anything we can cook. Still worth a shot to do an astral projection scouting, right? And Hope can copy my power. So we might have more psychic power than even Magneto can handle."| Well, Kwabena isn't about to remain silent. |"If we try to touch the Spire, it may blow the whole operation,"| he points out. |"If we have to know what's going on there to continue, then we should go home right now. I don't want us getting close to the Spire unless we absolutely need to know what's going on in there. Not until we have established a strong enough opposition in Hammer Bay, of exhausted ourselves doing so."| He may not understand just how powerful Hope and Nate might be together. However, he's hesitant to take that kind of risk this early in the game, and he spares no hesitation in showing it. |"There are two high profile politicians in Hammer Bay, and we don't yet know where they really stand. Risking exposure to the Spire now would be like exposing our Queen before its necessary."| He did stress the importance of understanding the intricacies of chess, after all. Rachel smiles as the man passes her a fresh cup of coffee, but it's a /superb/ bit of acting from her, coming as it does just as Nate announces his intention to go after the Spire next. She hadn't assumed he meant that to be an immediate target. "Thanks." She says, keeping her smile in place as she pays for her drink, and heads back out into the afternoon sunshine again. Her slightly hurried steps slow as Kwabena intervenes. Settling back in at her table, she finds a spot for her coffee and slips her sunglasses back on. It's all displacement activity to give her time to /think/. |I don't doubt you could blow through any defences Magneto's telepaths could come up with, Nate, even if you weren't linked with Hope.| That much is certainly true, but there's disquiet in her mental voice. |And if it comes to a straight fight, Hope mimicking your... or both of our... powers would give us a hell of a powerful weapon.| Once again, she wishes they'd had more time to train together, but wishing doesn't make it so. |But Shift's right. If you're detected, Magneto will know there's a powerful telepath on Genosha, assume it's an enemy, and act accordingly.| Rachel smiles as the man passes her a fresh cup of coffee, but it's a /superb/ bit of acting from her, coming as it does just as Nate announces his intention to go after the Spire next. She hadn't assumed he meant that to be an immediate target. "Thanks." She says, keeping her smile in place as she pays for her drink, and heads back out into the afternoon sunshine again. Her slightly hurried steps slow as Kwabena intervenes. Settling back in at her table, she finds a spot for her coffee and slips her sunglasses back on. It's all displacement activity to give her time to /think/. |I don't doubt you could blow through any defences Magneto's telepaths could come up with, Nate, even if you weren't linked with Hope.| That much is certainly true, but there's disquiet in her mental voice. |And if it comes to a straight fight, Hope mimicking your... or both of our... powers would give us a hell of a powerful weapon.| Once again, she wishes they'd had more time to train together, but wishing doesn't make it so. |But Shift's right. Even if Magneto knows you're here already, right now you're an unknown quantity. If you're detected snooping around his home, he'll assume you're hostile, and come looking for you.| You last paged Rachel Summers. Jean's steps quicken as her stress level rises. ~ Rachel's right, ~ she chimes in. ~ The Spire, and Bastion, aren't our primary targets this go 'round. The elections in Hammer Bay are. What you really need to do is keep an eye open for telepathic tampering -- with the candidates, their staff, their closest supporters. Even the citizenry as a whole. ~ That's where her immediate concern lays, anyway. ~ Attacking the Spire outright is only useful as a last resort -- a distraction. ~ Make a lot of noise over there to keep eyes off of something else happening off to one side. |"That is fine, I can handle Magneto being angry at me."| Nate has a knack at making powerful people angry at him. And he probably shouldn't be proud of himself about doing it! |"It wouldn't be an attack. I wouldn't hurt anyone if there is nothing wrong there... but alright. It can wait until the rest of the operation is finished, I suppose. And the elections done."| It was difficult to trust so many people, especially unknowns like Nate and Hope. Shift didn't trust easily to begin with, and this is stretching him to his limit. It says something that his clipped thoughts weren't peppered with angst and vulgarity. It also says something that he's still merely sipping water. If Nate can agree to play by these rules, then he may begin to earn Kwabena's trust as well. He understood the telepath's position, his hesitation, even his desire to go rogue and figure things out for himself. It's not entirely unlike Kwabena to do the same. That being said, this is a team, and teams work together. Ashing the cigarette, Kwabena blows the smoke out from his nostrils with a quiet sigh of relief. |"We need you in Hammer Bay, Nate. If we're gonna get close to these politicians, if we're gonna figure out where they stand, we're gonna need you."| Leaving a tendril of water in the glass, he snuffs out the cigarette and replaces the damask hat on his head before rising and moving toward the door. It's time for some fresh air. Category:Log